The Feast of St Valentine and the birthday of the Prophet Mohammed.

It was Valentine’s Day and Caroline had the idea of screening Sleepless in Seattle. The loudest, scariest thunder storm gave way to torrential rain and a power cut. Nevertheless, in Crocs and ponchos, we braved the storm and managed to get the ‘picture house’ ready. We started with about sixty students – all of them male. Clearly the women had thought better of paddling across campus for a foreign film. Valentine’s  Day or not, it wasn’t their idea of a romantic night out. So at the critical point in the film when Tom Hanks meets Meg Ryan at the top of the Empire State and boys were chatting and some got up to leave, Caroline turned in a hoarse whisper and said,

“I’m going to tell them all to sit down and shut up in a minute.”

Most seem to enjoy the film nights we have initiated. We’re not sure whether it’s the films they enjoy, or just the opportunity to sit and watch the images of another world and another culture. I’ve promised them the Sound of Music and South Pacific, but one guy has already asked for Rambo. There’s obviously another cultural chasm to bridge. This cultural chasm shows itself when, in this audience of 19-30 year olds, at the first hint of romance, a man and a woman kissing or the suggestion of sex, they fall into uproarious, but nervous laughter. Later that week, in class with student teachers, we spoke of their ambitions. To pray and to have babies was a common response.

I cycled along to the nearby Pentacostal Church this morning to an interesting community development event. I had been invited there by my friend Deogratius. We call him Deo. Deo is a clinical officer in the Ligula hospital and is also on the Board of a local NGO which is trying to build awareness of HIV/AIDS and other actions, designed to strengthen local participation in community development. It was a superb demonstration of good governance development in action. Over fifty community leaders representing over a hundred thousand people from dozens of villages in Mtwara’s outlying areas, were being trained in some of the procedures of good governance – consultation, community planning and accountability. I was welcomed as an observer and chatted to Mfaume who had taken the day off studies to represent his village. We spoke of the expectations his village has – school, water supply, clinic. Much of this is unachievable in the short-term, but the enthusiasm for change driven by local people was evident and was being harnessed by this new NGO, Sajaku, “Helping our communities help themselves”.

The days, now, are often cooler, often greyer and usually involve at least one great downpour. This is a time for farming. All around this neighbourhood, stretches of what we thought were open, unused land are being fenced, dug and planted. In many cases, the rains have brought out the lush evidence of earlier planting; maize and rice seemingly sprouting and flourishing overnight. Two weeks ago I chatted with my neighbour William one morning, early, as he shuffled through the soil barefoot, dropping a couple of maize seeds every half a yard, kicking the soil nonchalantly to cover them as he passed. Today those maize seeds are already six inch green shoots. This land is so warm, now so moist, so fecund.

People have prayed for rain. Whether Lutheran, Catholic or Muslim, people speak naturally and openly of the need for God to answer their prayers. The Regional Commissioner has clashed with the Bishop over the business of kneeling as he receives Holy Communion. He may be an eccentric, but his very public display of religious observance is unremarkable here.

Today is a public holiday celebrating the birth of the Prophet Mohammed.  The Catholic nursery and the Catholic training centre are both closed, as are all public buildings and public institutions. We’re off to the market to buy cloth for suits, skirts and shirts and see the tailor. Birthday or no birthday, it’s no holiday for those particular Muslims.